


Hitchhiker's Guide to the Valley

by engine



Category: gill & gilbert (webseries)
Genre: Bad Jokes, Canon Compliant, Crossover, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Multimedia, Stardew Valley - Freeform, extra bad flirting, weird video game nonsense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-14 11:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16911696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/engine/pseuds/engine
Summary: This was not his bedroom; this was definitely not his apartment. It was a single room, with a small table across from the bed and a fireplace on the back wall. When he looked out the window, he could see evergreen trees and the chatty bird who wanted everyone to know what his plans for the day were. The walls and floor were plain wood, and a small painting of a tree hung on the wall. At the end of the bed—which was not Brian’s normal bed—Pat looked about two minutes away from an anxiety attack. Mentally, Brian gave Pat a pass for what he would usually consider an overreaction.“Are we,” Brian started, then tried again: “Is this—?”Pat nodded, holding out a small yellow pouch with a parsnip drawn on the front and an open letter addressed to Brian.





	Hitchhiker's Guide to the Valley

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ionthesparrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ionthesparrow/gifts).



  
_(Monday, Sunny. The spirits feel neutral today. The day is in your hands.)_

Sunlight streamed in through the window, warm and obnoxiously bright, as birds chirped their good mornings outside. Still half asleep, it took Brian a second to process the fact that happy birds weren’t his usual wake-up call since moving to New York City. It took another second for his brain to comprehend the new sounds he was hearing were human speech. 

“Brian,” Pat said in a frantic whisper-yell, which, again, was not his normal morning experience. Generally, Pat wasn’t in Brian’s apartment when Brian first woke up. “ _Brian_. Wake up.”

“Mnnguhwhat?” Brian managed from within his warm blanket cocoon. 

“I swear to God, Brian,” Pat said at a normal volume, beginning to sound stressed in the way he only got during a particularly egregious losing streak in Smash Brothers. “I _will_ pour cold water on you, don’t think I won’t.”

“I’m _up_ ,” Brian said, forcing himself into a sitting position with only a slight groan. “What the _hell_ , Pat,” he continued, before repeating, once he actually opened his eyes: “wait, what the hell?”

This was not his bedroom; this was _definitely_ not his apartment. It was a single room, with a small table next to an old television and a fireplace on the back wall. When he looked out the window, he could see evergreen trees, a few birds perched on branches. At the end of the bed—which was very much not Brian’s actual bed—Pat looked about two minutes away from an anxiety attack. Mentally, Brian decided to give Pat a pass; if anything deserved a freak out, this definitely seemed like the time. 

“Are we,” Brian started, then tried again: “Is this—?”

Pat nodded, holding out a small yellow pouch with a parsnip drawn on the front and an open letter addressed to Brian. 

_Dear Brian_ , the letter began. _If you’re reading this, you must be in dire need of a change_.

He only made it through a few sentences before the edges of his vision started to go dark. If Pat was allowed to have a panic attack, Brian was definitely allowed to faint, okay. This was a no judgment zone. 

“This is a no judgment zone,” Pat said once Brian was awake for the second time in about fifteen minutes. “You can faint as many times as you need.”

“I think once is enough,” Brian said, whining a little when he opened his eyes to find they were still, inexplicably, in the farm cabin from Stardew Valley. A video game. They were somehow in a video game. Brian knew he was panicking, but he couldn’t get his body to listen to his brain. His fingers started to feel a little numb. “What the fuck, man! We’re in a video game! What the _fuck_!”

“I don’t know!” Pat shouted back, running both hands through his hair, a sign of dire straits indeed. “I’m _pretty_ sure this isn’t a shared delusion, but—”

Suddenly there was a knock on the door, interrupting what would’ve probably been an impressive paranoia-fueled brainstorm. 

Whoever was outside knocked again, in a polite sort of way, and Pat made a pained expression. Brian looked down, planning to make a quip about not looking decent enough to answer to door, and was surprised to find he was fully dressed in farm clothes. He was _pretty_ sure he’d worn a Yu-Gi-Oh shirt from seventh grade when he’d gone to bed last night. Another mystery. He hoped it wasn’t lost to space and time, or video game data, or whatever. Pat huffed out a sigh. 

“Hello Brian and Pat!” Marnie said when Pat opened the door. She looked the same as her in-game sprite; maybe a little older around the eyes, but in a nice way, like she might bake you a plate of cookies. “You see this cat here? I found it sitting outside the entrance to your farm! I think it’s a stray… poor little thing.”

“Isn’t this happening too soon?” Pat said, looking down at the orange tabby cat grooming itself on the front porch. “Why are getting a cat on day one?”

Marnie frowned, blinking rapidly a few times. She looked down at the cat too, then looked from Pat over to Brian, who was hovering behind Pat’s shoulder. She blinked rapidly again, and then— _glitched_. That was the only way to describe it. Her face shifted, displaced pixels flashing rapidly black and white. Brian recoiled; Pat half shut the door; the cat meowed.

Her face reset into the slightly embarrassed expression that went with her dialog sprite in-game. “I think it likes this place!” she said, as if Pat hadn’t spoken at all. “Hey, um… Don’t you think this farm could use a good cat?”

Pat looked at Brian; Brian looked back, shrugging. Pat made a face, clearly saying, _well it’s your farm_ , with his eyebrows.

“Yeah, sure,” Brian said. The cat meowed up at him. “You can be named, uh… Banana?”

Pat raised an eyebrow. “Banana?”

“It was the first thing I thought of,” Brian said, scooting past Pat to lean down and offer his hand to the cat. 

“Well, little Banana,” Marnie said, leaning down as well to scratch Banana’s head. “You be a good kitty now, okay?”

Banana meowed again, and pushed his head into Brian’s hand. Marnie gave them all a little wave, and headed off in the direction of town. Brian and Pat didn’t say anything for a solid minute, only the soft sounds of Banana’s purring breaking the silence.

“So,” Pat said, walking out onto the deck and closing the door behind him. “Okay. Okay. Things are a little different than the actual game. But we can’t ask too many questions or things get fucked up. Maybe just by virtue of us being here? We’ve messed up the internal code or something.”

“We’ve hacked it!” Brian said as Banana stood up and trotted back down the steps towards a particularly sunny spot. He looked up at Pat, resting his chin on his hand. “I dunno, man, it’s super weird and freaky and I’m trying not to think about it too much. Maybe if we just… play the game, you know, the way it wants us to, we’ll just wake up back home one morning?”

Pat frowned and crossed his arms. Clearly Pat didn’t agree with that strategy; Brian sighed.

“You got any other ideas?” Brian looked out at the overgrown farm, scanning the landscape. It looked real enough, with trees and rocks and grass; a small pond; the occasionally butterfly. Behind him, Pat huffed out an annoyed sigh.

“If we’re just gonna play the game, I guess you should go meet everyone,” Pat said, walking past Brian to survey the hand-me-down farming tools arranged next to the deck. The rusty watering can seemed more ominous than Brian would’ve guessed was possible. “It’s apparently _your_ grandpa’s farm, after all.”

“Why do you sound so annoyed that it’s _my_ grandpa?” Brian asked, but he stood up and brushed out the wrinkles in his overalls—and god, that was a whole other issue, _overalls_ , _really?_ Who’d decided on their stupid farmer outfits anyway? On the other hand, Pat was wearing some sort of pseudo-western button down, and Brian definitely didn’t want to wear that. He looked better in florals. “This isn’t even real!”

“I’m annoyed at everything right now.” Pat hesitantly picked up the scythe, like he was worried it might attack. “Do you think this’ll be as easy as the game? I mean, I’ll get tired or whatever but I don’t need to know a particular technique or whatever, right?”

Brian weighed the probability that Pat would irreparably harm himself with the fact that they really were, somehow, in a video game, where the worst that happened was you passed out and woke up in bed the next morning. “No, no, I think you’ll be okay. I mean.” He paused, scrunching up his face. “Maybe try before I leave? So I can drag you to the doctor if something goes wrong.”

“Ha- _ha_ ,” Pat fake-laughed, but he walked up to a patch of tall grass and swiped at it with the scythe. It poofed out into little chunks, leaving a clean patch of dirt in its place. The weirdness of it was enough to give Brian an instant headache. Pat just said, “huh!” and kept hacking at grass.

“Have fun, stay safe, don’t die!” Brian shouted as he started walking backwards in the direction of town. Pat waved him off, but Brian could see his eye roll even from a distance. 

Still, he took the chance to get going, following the dirt path towards Pelican Town. A soft breeze rustled through his hair as he walked, the leaves in the trees adding their own quiet song to the bird’s singing. Everything really was beautiful, in a strange, unreal sort of way. It kind of felt like being on a film set: everything down to the pebbles in the dirt path seemed perfectly arranged, as though a set designer had just come through and glued them in place. Which, in a way, someone had. Even if this _felt_ real, it wasn’t. Right?

“This is so freaky,” he muttered to himself as he passed by the out-of-commission bus stop. He could see the town now, a small collection of buildings nestled among cobblestone pathways and old trees. There was the doctor’s office and the market; on the other side of the main square, the saloon hadn’t opened yet, and across the creek was the newly built JojaMart, gleaming silver. It was charming, just like the game. If he hadn’t woken up here with no explanation or possibility of escape, it would feel like vacation.

It was just after eight when he arrived in the town square, according to some internal clock in his brain. A video game thing, definitely. Choosing not to question it, he pushed open the door to Pierre’s shop, sparing a quick thought that he and Pat probably should’ve discussed their cover stories more—

“Welcome!” Pierre said, beaming from behind the counter. The shop was neat and clean and charming in a rural kind of way, the fruits and vegetables all uniformly perfect like they’d never be in real life. Brian almost asked who Pierre’s supplier was, which wasn’t something he’d really worried about when playing the game, but it occurred to him now that it was kind of weird how he had so much fresh produce. Fresh produce that the player was never able to _buy_ , specifically. That didn’t really seem fair, although given the player was the only one with a farm, it kind of made sense. But then where’d he get his stuff from?

“Um, hi,” Brian said, heading up to the counter and cutting off his overactive brain. He might as well get started with those introductions. 

“Hey, it’s Mr. Brian, the new farmer!” Pierre said, unnecessarily, but that was game dialog for you. “I’m Pierre, owner of the local general store. If you’re looking for seeds, my shop is the place to go.” He paused and looked quickly past Brian, as if expecting someone else. “Your husband didn’t come with you? Well, hopefully we can all meet him soon, too.”

“My _what_ ,” Brian shrieked, before he could stop himself. “We’re not—I mean, _he’s_ not—!” Words just didn’t seem to want to work properly, which Brian felt was understandable, given what Pierre had just said. All the same, Pierre didn’t react at all: he just leaned against the check-out counter and kept talking.

“I’ll also buy produce from you for a good price. A little agriculture could really inject new life into the local economy!” he said, smile bright and friendly. 

That seemed to be the end of the conversation, at least as far as the game was concerned, but Brian wasn’t ready to give this up for a lost cause just yet. 

“Pat’s _not_ my, uh, husband,” Brian said, his voice only cracking a _little_ bit. It was just—he didn’t _think_ about _Pat_ like— “We’re just friends! Just friends. Where’d you get the idea that we were, uh.” He gestured vaguely, unable to say the word, flapping his hand back and forth like that conveyed any meaning whatsoever. 

Pierre frowned at him a little, tilting his head to the right. “What?” he said, and Brian actually saw it happen this time, caught the way Pierre’s eyes unfocused and his expression flattened out, and then the _glitch_ happened, just like with Marnie. Suddenly he was back to smiling again, as though Brian hadn’t said anything. He gave Brian a genial nod. “It was good talking to you, Farmer Brian!” 

Brian swallowed heavily, forcing himself to take deep breaths so he wouldn’t hyperventilate. “Haha. Yeah. You too!” he managed to squeak out, knowing he sounded freaked out, but he couldn’t work up the energy to do anything about it. Instead, he turned tail and rushed out of the shop, not caring that he’d ignored Pierre’s wife and daughter, two other NPCs he’d need to meet at some point. Pierre probably didn’t even notice his weirdness anyway—it wasn’t in their code, right? They knew how they were supposed to chat about the farm, who Brian and Pat were supposed to be, and that was it.

He kept hearing the word ‘husband’ in his head, like a terrible commercial jingle designed to send him into a panic attack. It was, in fact, so distracting, that he nearly walked into another person while leaving the shop. 

“Oh, you’re the new farmer that just moved in!” Emily said, clasping her hands together with excitement. Her blue hair was bright and cheerful, her clothes a mismatched thrift-store chic. Brian would’ve thought she’d be more cartoony, but honestly she looked like tons of girls he’d seen around New York. “I can read it on your face. You’re going to love it here in Pelican Town.”

Brian was pretty sure his face looked mostly nauseated, but he managed a half smile and an almost-real laugh. “I’m sure I will. Just needed a change, you know?”

Emily nodded, eyes wide and serious like she knew _exactly_ what Brian meant. “If you and your husband are ever looking for something to do in the evening, stop by the saloon. That’s where I work!” She gave him a quick wave and walked around him and into Pierre’s shop.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Brian said, half a whisper, dragging his hands down his face. Part of him wanted to run back to the farm, possibly yell at Pat about what was going on but also maybe he could just hide for a little bit. But another part of him felt something—a niggling sensation that him want to introduce himself to everyone in town. Brian had never found the Stardew Valley quest log particularly annoying before, but he was thinking he might have to revise that opinion.

He let out a long, tired sigh, and headed in the direction of Harvey, the town doctor. Most of the people in town were excited to meet him, with the exception of George, the grumpy old man, and Shane, who gave him a dirty look before heading over to work at JojaMart. The villagers who _were_ sociable all seemed a little disappointed Pat wasn’t doing the rounds with him; they also all seemed convinced Pat was his husband.

“You’re so lucky,” Leah had sighed after she’d told him how lovely spring in the valley was. “My ex didn’t want me to move here… That’s why we broke up.”

“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you and your husband!” Maru had said, beaming. “With a small town like this, new faces can really alter the community dynamic. It’s exciting!”

“If you or your husband ever need to upgrade your tools, I’m your guy,” Clint said, hovering awkwardly behind the counter in the blacksmith’s shop, looking like he didn’t really know what to do with his hands.

For the most part, Brian managed to keep it together, because that glitching thing was creepy and he’d like to avoid it happening again. At least none of them were asking for _details_. If someone tried to get Brian to talk about their, like, engagement, or wedding, or whatever, he was pretty sure it would end with a breakdown. Luckily, he got distracted stuffing wild onions into his backpack to sell for cash—just in case, you know—so when the sun began to set he had a solid reason not to talk to anyone else about anything, and especially not about Pat.

The thing about Pat was— It wasn’t—

Okay. 

The thing _was_ : this kind of situation wasn’t _entirely_ new. Someone had definitely asked if they were together once, when a group of them had gone to a bar after work. And it had been funny, right, because Brian wasn’t an idiot, he knew their stream got a little, like, _y’know_ , sometimes. He might not go on tumblr but he was on twitter _plenty_. And Simone and Allegra teased them a bunch about it, and Pat and Brian themselves both made jokes about being a married couple for like, two weeks afterwards. But he hadn’t really… thought about it. Not that much. Not in depth.

He hadn’t _let_ himself.

Chewing at his fingernails as he walked back to the farm, Brian very much wished he wasn’t thinking about it now.

When he got there, Pat was lounging on the steps up to the cabin, pickaxe leaning next to him. He looked exhausted, but not particularly, like, dirty or sweaty or whatever, which was a perk of this whole stuck-in-a-video-game situation. The area immediately around the cabin was freshly cleared, and paths through the overgrowth led towards the different areas surrounding Pelican Town. He’d planted all the parsnips along with some other mixed seeds he must’ve found while working, and Brian tactfully didn’t mention they didn’t have a scarecrow yet.

“You made a lot of progress, huh,” Brian said, putting off the inevitable conversation for as long as possible.

“Dude, I’m so tired.” Pat squinted up at him, the setting sun flaring over the treetops. “That exhaustion stat is no joke. I am ready to call it a _day_. But I wasn’t sure I could until you got back? So.” He paused, and gestured vaguely. “Video game rules and whatever.”

Brian nodded like a bobble head. “Right, right, yeah, makes sense. I’m not super tired but, like, I could sleep, probably. Or just sit around the cabin. I don’t really know how this is going to work? Given the way the game works? But if you want to sleep, that’s fine.”

He knew he sounded suspicious; his rambling wasn’t exactly subtle. But Pat must have been too tired to puzzle through Brian’s problems, because although he gave Brian a look, eyebrow raised, he didn’t push the issue. 

That was fine; as long as he ran Pat through everything before Pat met anyone else, it would totally be okay. Definitely.

Probably.

-

  
_(Tuesday, Sunny. The spirits are somewhat annoyed today. Luck will not be on your side.)_

“Here’s the plan,” Pat said the second Brian rolled over and opened his eyes. The night before, he’d crawled into the tragically small bed next to Pat, very unsure how it it was all going to play out. In the end, it was anticlimactic: they said goodnight, Brian tried his best not to hyper focus on Pat’s body heat, and the next thing Brian knew, he was waking up to sunlight and Pat Gill looking way too serious way too early in the day. 

“Oh my god,” Brian mumbled, half into his pillow. “It’s like six in the morning, Pat. Seriously?”

Pat was sitting at the little table in their cabin, the TV turned to face him so he could watch; it was muted, but looked to be showing reruns of that cooking show. Brian suddenly felt sure he knew how to cook stir-fry, if only they had a kitchen. He hoped they weren’t stuck here long enough to buy that house upgrade.

“No, shut up.” Pat still looked serious and also not willing to put up with any bullshit, so Brian sat up in bed with a sigh. “We’re gonna go see the wizard.”

“The Wonderful Wizard of Oz?” Brian parroted back, still half asleep, and immediately winced once the words were out of his mouth. Pat shot him a withering look and, yeah, Brian deserved that. “Right, okay, wizard. Sure.” He paused. “Why?”

Pat steepled his fingers, flicking back his hair with a careless toss of his head. It made him look more like a super-villain than usual. “If I remember the game correctly,” Pat began, narrowing his eyes, “the wizard knows a lot of shit about a lot of shit. Basically he’s the deus ex machina of the game, right? I figure, at the very least, this dude might have some insight into _how_ we got here, if not _why_.”

It wasn’t _terrible_ logic, by Patrick standards, even though Brian wasn’t sure a video game wizard would have any m insight into their situation like, at all. But Pat had clearly put a lot of thought into this, and it wasn’t like there was any other idea on the table.

“Okay, then we’ll go see the wizard,” Brian said, sliding out of bed. The fact that he was still wearing the overalls from yesterday—as well as the shoes—was super weird. At least they didn’t smell. He stretched, pleased that to find he wasn't sore from walking around all of yesterday. “We should, uh, talk about some stuff first though.”

“Oh, yeah,” Pat said, nodding. “We need to plan how much to tell him, definitely.”

“I guess? Why does it—but no, um,” Brian said, forcing himself to be an adult and not let Pat’s weird thought processes distract him from the situation. “So, uh, I met a bunch of people in town yesterday. Not everyone, but, like, a bunch? And you know how you can, like, give people presents, and some of the villagers are single, and can be, um, married, later on?”

Pat rolled his eyes. “What, did someone flirt with you or something?”

“Not… exactly.” Brian felt his face turning red, and he decided to pick at the remnants of his nail polish rather than look Pat in the eyes for this. “So I guess the game thinks we’re married or whatever so everyone keeps asking about my husband and they all want to meet you too and I tried to correct them but Pierre glitched and it was like he didn’t ever hear me so I guess we’re uh, married now,” he said quickly, taking a deep breath once he was finished. Like ripping of a bandaid, right? “So, yeah, I thought you should probably know that? Before we talked to anyone else.”

It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop, and as the silence lingered, Brian chanced a look up at Pat. He looked—well, not angry, at least. That was a plus. It wasn’t _Brian’s_ fault, after all, so anger didn’t feel warranted. Dumbfounded, definitely. Maybe a little horrified. Not great for Brian’s ego but he’d survive. 

“We,” Pat tried, but, unable to string words together, snapped his mouth shut. He pushed back his hair and rubbed at the side of his face. Brian let him process, because he’d had a full day and it only seemed fair. Unfortunately, Pat seemed to be struggling with this revelation worse than Brian. “Like… together?”

“That is what being married entails, yes. Usually two people, big ceremony, legally binding, e-t-c,” Brian said, deciding to look back down at his fingernails. Safer territory. “We probably don’t have to do anything, like, this game is super family safe and stuff, but, uh. You know.”

Pat cleared his throat, ran a hand through his hair again, and nodded a few times. Brian risked a look up at him, and suddenly had a horrifying thought that included Patrick in a suit and lots of flowers. He forcefully pushed that into a box somewhere in the far recesses of his mind where he also kept awkward pre-teen fantasies starring various anime and video game characters.

“Okay, well,” Pat said, finally regaining some self control. “I guess we can’t do anything about that and that’s. Fine. It’s fine. Let’s just, um. Go to the wizard’s tower and… figure it out later. Like, once we know how long this is going to last.”

Given, well, everything, Brian decided not to point out how optimistic that was, and instead just followed Pat out of the cabin. They stopped to say good morning to Banana, who meowed happily when they refilled his bowl of water, and made plans to water the crops once they got back from whatever this meeting turned out to be.

They took their time walking down to the tower, waving to Marnie as she left her ranch towards town square. Just beyond the lake, the wizard’s tower perched on a small hill at the edge of the forest, cartoonishly cute and slightly crooked. Green vines climbed up the stonework, little purple flowers blooming here and there, and Brian wondered how the tower stayed standing. It definitely wouldn’t be architecturally sound in the real world.

Pat jogged up the steps first, leaning close to the door to listen for signs of life before knocking. When they didn’t hear any noises in response, he tried again. Loudly. “Mr. Wizard?” he shouted at the wood planks, banging his fist against them. He raised an eyebrow at Brian. “Now that I think about it, I wonder if he even _exists_ in the game before the event triggers.”

“Hey Patrick? This plan sucks,” Brian said, but he stepped up next to Pat and banged on the door too. “Wizard Guy! This is really important! I know you don’t know us and, like, we haven’t gone inside the Community Center yet, but—”

The door swung open, so quickly that Pat, who’d pressed his ear against the wood, stumbled and almost crashed into the flamboyantly dressed middle-aged man just inside. The cowboy hat was pretty cool, though. Brian would give him that.

“Hm,” the wizard said, looking piercingly between them. Pat and Brian exchanged looks. The silence stretched a few beats longer, before the wizard stepped back and opened the door wide enough to let them in. “Come in. We need to talk.”

Inside, a bubbling cauldron made the front room smell… kind of like one of those incense hippie stores, actually. Candles flickered ominously in the dim light that made it past stained glass windows and thick velvet curtains. The summoning pentacle looked normal, when Brian looked at it directly, but it seemed to sparkle when he caught a glimpse in his peripheral vision. All in all: really solid wizard tower, five stars. 

“I am the Wizard Rasmodius,” the wizard said, his cape swirling as he shut the door behind them and turned around. “And you two should not be here.”

“Holy shit,” Brian said at the same time Pat said, “you can tell! I _told_ you, Br—ow!” Brian elbowed him in the ribs.

“It’s very obvious.” The wizard Rasmodius adjusted his vest in a way that suggested he was proud of himself for being correct. “While I’m not sure how you got here or where you come from, your presence poses a threat to our timeline. Obviously I will need to fix this.”

“Thank God,” Pat said, leaning an arm on Brian’s shoulder and sagging with relief. “Not that Pelican Town isn’t cool and all but, like, we’ve got work and stuff, you know?”

“And I assume no one else seems aware anything is wrong?” Rasmodius asked, stroking his goatee. Brian nodded. “Well, of course not. Someone new _was_ meant to move in after all. I wonder how…” He trailed off, narrowing his eyes in thought. After a moment, Rasmodius huffed out a sigh and crossed his arms. “The how and why is unimportant, really. As intriguing as it may be. The real problem is how to get you out, before that’s no longer an option.”

The color drained from Pat’s face; Brian immediately felt like he might throw up. “You mean we could be stuck here?” Brian asked, his voice cracking.

Rasmodius gave them a serious look, making eye contact with them each in turn before speaking. “I certainly hope not,” he finally said, which didn’t exactly raise their confidence much. “For now, I suggest you both do your best not to disrupt our world anymore than you already have. Who knows what the ripple effect might be.”

Pat tightened a hand on Brian’s arm, but when Brian looked at him, Pat was still looking at the wizard, expression carefully blank. Brian took a long, steadying breath, before turning back to Rasmodius.

“Okay, right,” he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “We’ll just… do the farm thing. How long is this gonna take?”

Rasmodius hummed, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully. “It’s difficult to say. I have contacts to reach out to, incantations to prepare. I’ll find you when I know more.” With a swirl of his cape, he turned again and opened the tower door, as clear a signal as any that this conversation was over. “I’ll be in touch.”

Pat squeezed Brian’s arm once again before moving away to shake Rasmodius’s hand. “Thanks,” he said, as the wizard nodded. “Hopefully we’re out of your hair soon.”

“That would be preferable for all of us,” Rasmodius said, but he did crack the _tiniest_ bit of a smile, so Brian felt it was safe to assume he was mostly joking. Probably. He shook Brian’s hand too, and then they were outside in the bright sunshine once again, the door shut firmly behind them.

For a moment, they just looked at each other, not saying anything. 

“That guy is super weird,” Pat said, blinking a few times while his eyes adjusted to the sun. “Like, kind of cool? But also super weird.”

“I was gonna say that!” Brian said, expounding on the wizard’s weird body language and fashion sense, Pat’s laughter echoing out across the lake.

Without much else to do, they spent the rest of the day clearing out the overgrowth around the farm under the watchful gaze of Banana. Between the two of them, the worst of it was gone by early evening, their backpacks—inventories— _backpacks_ now magically full of grass and rocks and wood. Although it was significantly easier than it would’ve been in real life, there was something satisfying about it, and Pat insisted on a high five as they stood back and surveyed their work.

“It’s kind of weird to not actually be hungry?” Pat said, shielding his eyes against the setting sun. “Like, pretty wild that the video game mechanics affect us.”

“My brain hurts just thinking about it,” Brian said, hands on his hips. “We should go grab a beer though. In celebration or whatever. Also, everyone in town wanted to like, meet you or whatever, so.”

“Ha!” Pat sort-of-laughed, clearly amused. “Gotta show off the trophy husband, huh?”

Despite his best efforts, Brian knew his face went bright red, and he punched Pat in the arm. “Thanks, I hate it!” he said, and turned on his heel in the direction of Pelican Town, refusing to look back when Pat laughed for real.

It was dark when they reached the saloon, the town’s few streetlamps illuminating their way. Music drifted out the windows along with the steady hum of conversation, and Brian steeled himself—as best he could—for the oncoming interactions with the villagers. It wasn’t that he disliked _them_ , but he could still hear all their comments about Pat from yesterday. He sighed, not feeling at all ready for this, but Pat bumped their shoulders together and flashed a thumbs up, and that, at least, made some of the nerves settle down.

“Well hello there! I’m Gus, chef and owner of the Stardrop Saloon,” Gus said when they walked through the door, beaming from behind the counter. He gestured at the room, still holding a glass in one hand and a cleaning rag in the other. “You two look like you could use a beverage.”

“Yessir, we sure could,” Pat said, smiling and leaning against the counter. He held up two fingers, and dropped some coins on the bar with his other hand. “Two beers, please.” 

“Coming right up,” Gus said, dropping the coins into the register. “You got that, Em?”

Behind him, Emily nodded, grabbing two glasses from the shelves. “Gotcha covered,” she said, pouring the beers as Brian and Pat took a seat at the bartop. She smiled brightly at them as she placed the now-full glasses down on a couple of coasters. “Ooh, is this Patrick?”

“Uh, yeah,” Brian said, trying to look and sound completely normal. “Pat, this is Emily, I met her yesterday.”

Emily clasped her hands together, earnest as ever. “It’s so nice to meet you! This must be such a big change for you, huh? How are you liking being out of the big city?”

Pat took a sip of his beer, clearly trying to find some liquid courage. “It’s a, uh, big change, definitely. But, you know, we were both tired of the whole,” he paused and made a vague gesture, which Brian assumed meant ‘whatever the villagers believed they did before moving here.’ “It’s hard work but worth it.”

Emily sighed like she thought Pat’s explanation was _extremely_ romantic. Brian took a big sip of his beer, too. They both needed it for this conversation. “That’s _so_ sweet. Brian’s so lucky to have you!” She beamed at them both, as Brian tried not to choke on his drink.

“Definitely,” Brian managed to say around coughs. “Super lucky.” 

Pat thumped a hand on his back, then left it there for a few seconds longer than _just friends_ ; heat ran up into Brian’s face, and thank God he could blame it on the beer. Still, when he caught Pat’s eye, Pat gave him a slightly apologetic smile, and he felt some of the embarrassment recede. They were stuck in this together, for better or worse—pun _super_ not intended. Brian winced at his own thoughts, and threw back some more beer for good measure.

They stayed at the saloon for a bit longer, introducing Pat to a few more of the folk who stopped by, and every time went the same: _yes, this is Pat, yes, I’m very lucky he was interested in moving to the farm too, yes, we’re so glad to be out of the city._ It wasn’t that anyone was rude—well, Shane was, but Shane was always rude—but there was something exhausting about the whole act they had to put on. He and Pat would joke around on the show, and even sometimes when they were just hanging out, not on camera, but bits were bits, and they stopped being funny after a while. This felt just like that: like a bit that went on too long. It was grating and exhausting and Brian really wished he could stop.

He was all too glad when they finally finished their beers, giving them an excuse to bail on the conversation with Willy, the fisherman, who wanted to go into detail about the beauty of the… fish hunt, or something. Honestly, Brian tuned most of it out.

“See you boys soon!” Gus said, waving from behind the bar, and then they were free, walking back to the farm and the cabin. 

Considering everything, it wasn’t as awkward as it could’ve been. Crickets chirped in the bushes, and stars twinkled overhead, and Pat apparently decided to avoid bringing up the fact that a bunch of people thought they were married. Brian for sure owed him a _real_ beer, once they got out of this. 

“Seriously, how did this even happen?” Pat said, once they were back in the cabin. He flopped down on the floor next to Banana, keen to get in some cat time before they went to sleep. “Was it like, a magic spell? Who would put us in a video game, though? Hey, if the wizard does magic, and we’re in a world with the wizard who can do magic, that means magic is real, right?”

“Pat,” Brian tried to interrupt him as he climbed into bed. At this point, Brian was ready for it to be tomorrow, or at least for the ten or so hours where he didn’t have to think about being trapped in a video game, married to Pat Gill. 

“But if we’re in a video game, then his magic is just numbers, right? It’s just code,” Pat continued, leaving Banana to sleep in front of the fireplace so he could climb into bed too. “So it’s more like… quantum mechanics, right? Something that we can’t explain with our current understanding of science, but the math has to be there.”

“Patrick,” Brian tried again, wondering if he could smother Pat with a pillow. 

“I guess it would be more of a curse than a spell, huh,” Pat continued as he climbed into bed, and instead of thinking about Pat’s knee bumping against Brian’s own, Brian rolled over, put a pillow over his head, and fell asleep.

-

  
_(Wednesday, Rainy. The spirits are mildly perturbed today. Luck will not be on your side.)_

Brian woke up to the sound of rain. 

It wasn’t too cold inside, but Brian slid out of bed anyway, trying his best to keep quiet, and went over to light the fireplace. Banana purred gratefully as its warmth spilled out onto them, and Brian scratched between his ears as a good morning. Pat was still asleep—the first time he hadn’t woken up before Brian—and Brian briefly debated waking him up just as payback. 

That seemed a bit _too_ mean, though, given how stressed Patrick had clearly been feeling since day one. Instead he stared out the window at the rain, wondering what his sister was up to; wondering what was happening at work. Was time passing the same way back home? Were people freaking out about them disappearing? His mom was _definitely_ the type to call the police if he didn’t text her like usual. And if they _did_ get back, like the wizard promised, what could they possibly tell people about this? _Oh, sorry, Pat and I missed work because we were stuck in a video game_ —yeah, that would _definitely_ go over well.

“Uuuuugggghhhh,” Pat groaned, pulling Brian’s attention away from his increasingly depressing thoughts. “I’d kind of thought I’d wake up and the wizard would’ve done some magic shit and I’d be back home.” Pat ran his hands through his hair, dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t slept well. Stress, probably. “Like, I know he said it was gonna take some time, but—you know.”

“Yeah,” Brian said, pushing up his glasses to rub at his eyes. “But hey, at least it’s raining. Don’t have to water the plants today.”

“Silver lining,” Pat said, smiling when Banana jumped up onto the bed and crawled on his lap to demand pets and attention. “Oh hey, buddy, good morning.”

Brian stared for a second, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do with _that_ , before giving up. Between everything else he just didn’t have the energy. “I’ll go, uh, check the mail,” he said, rushing outside before Pat could object. Unfortunately, the rain soaked right through his clothes the second he stepped out from beneath the roof awning, but it still felt safer outside instead of in the tiny cabin with his goddamn _coworker_ and a cute cat. Christ.

He grabbed a couple letters out of the mailbox before stomping back up the steps with a little more force than was really necessary.

“The mine is open,” he said, warily peeking back inside. Pat was out of bed and checking the weather on TV—sunny tomorrow, apparently—and Banana was curled back up on the carpet by the fire. “Wanna check it out?”

“Sure. Not much else to do,” Pat said with a shrug, and he followed Brian back outside and into the rain. “I wonder how this works. The rain, I mean. Because like, in the game, your sprite doesn’t look wet, right? But some of the villagers comment on it, and, like, we’re obviously drenched,” he continued as they walked towards the town square. On the bright side, the rain was warm, rather than the chilly spring rain they sometimes got back home, but Brian could do without the wet denim overalls. 

“I don’t think it’s ever gonna really make sense, Pat.” Brian plucked at his clothes, grimacing. “But it would be kinda nice to not be wet all day. Why didn’t they put an umbrella in this game?”

Pat hummed, tilting his head back and forth thoughtfully. “It doesn’t really matter when you’re not living it, right? So it’s just an extra thing to draw and program. There’s only the one dude working on the whole game. He’s got a lot more to worry about than umbrellas.” He paused, pushing hair out of his face; he had water droplets all over his glasses too, and he kept squinting trying to see past them.

“Oh hey,” Brian interrupted before Pat could keep rambling, smacking the back of his hand against Pat’s chest and pointing up towards the plateau, where the Community Center sat nestled in the distance. Just visible in the rain was Mayor Lewis, and _he_ had an umbrella, which didn’t seem fair; Brian tried to remember if Mayor Lewis had one in the regular game, but he couldn’t remember, and besides, he was pretty sure this event didn’t happen so early in-game anyway. “Looks like it’s cutscene time!”

“Oh shit, we get to meet the junimos,” Pat said, brightening up immediately. He grabbed Brian’s wrist and dragged him towards the staircase that led to higher ground. Brian stumbled slightly on the wet cobblestones before catching his balance, tugging his arm away from Pat’s grip when they started up the stairs. 

Lewis turned in their direction once they got closer, their boots clicking and splashing with every step. “Oh, hi there,” he said, smiling a little, but there was something sad about his expression too. He looked back towards the building and sighed. “What an eyesore,” he mumbled, and gestured towards it with the hand not holding his umbrella. “This is the Pelican Town Community Center… or what’s left of it, anyway. It used to be the pride and joy of the town… always bustling with activity. Now look at it. It’s shameful.”

He shook his head, clearly lost in his own thoughts. Pat shot Brian a look, clearly debating whether or not he wanted to say anything. Brian shook his head. Clearly there was a script here, and it seemed smarter to just let it happen.

“Joja Corporation has been hounding me to sell them the land so they can turn it into a warehouse,” Lewis continued, not sounding at all happy about that prospect. “Pelican Town coulduse the money, but there’s something stopping me from selling it. Guess old timers like me get attached to relics of the past…” He trailed off, shaking his head again. “Ah well. Here, let’s go inside.”

“Yesss,” Pat hissed quietly as Lewis pulled out a ring of keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. He practically bounced into the building behind Lewis, and Brian rolled his eyes, but smiled, too.

“Hm? What’s this?” Lewis mumbled as he walked inside, frowning over at the small grass hut in the corner of the main room. “I guess Vincent and Jas must’ve been playing in here…” He shook out his umbrella and closed it before putting a hand on his hip. “This place is even more dilapidated than I remember.”

And then, right on cue—a little green forest spirit popped into existence behind Mayor Lewis, over by the fireplace. Pat beamed; Brian jumped, startled despite the fact that he knew it was coming. The junimo waved before disappearing right as Mayor Lewis turned around.

“What?” he asked, looking back at Brian and Pat with his eyebrows raised. “What happened?”

“Oh just—a rat!” Pat said, as Mayor Lewis peered around the room in the other direction. The junimo reappeared behind him and did a little dance. It was _extremely_ cute. Brian tried really hard not to laugh, but he knew his face was definitely doing _something_. “I’m a big animal person, sorry, I got excited.”

“Hmm. Wouldn’t be surprised if this place was full of them,” Lewis said, shaking his head. The junimo vanished once more, and this time didn’t reappear. “Well, I think I’m going to head home. I need some lunch,” he continued, walking over to the door. Outside, the rain was still pouring at the same steady tempo. “Hey. I’ll keep this place unlocked from now on… maybe you can help catch that rat if you have some extra time.”

They managed a solid minute after Lewis left before breaking.

“Awwwww!” Pat cooed, while Brian bent down and peered through the door of the junimo’s hut. “They’re even cuter than I thought they’d be!”

“I can’t tell you how sad I am that they won’t be our friends immediately,” Brian sighed at the lack of visible junimos. “Indescribably sad.”

“Man, I hope whoever’s supposed to be here instead of us isn’t a dick,” Pat said as he walked around the room, taking in all the damage. “I get the whole, like, metaphor-giving-you-a-choice thing, but if anyone sides with Joja Mart they’re a huge dick.” He peered into the open doors leading to the pantry and craft room, and Brian let himself look at Pat, just for a few seconds, while Pat wasn’t paying him any attention. 

It was just—so stupid. He’d been so careful: _don’t fuck up the new job, Brian, don’t get a crush on your coworker, Brian, seriously it’s a bad idea_. And now look at him. Three days in a fucking video game and he’d lost that battle with hardly a fight.

Okay, maybe it was a lost cause from the start. Listen. He wasn’t taking any questions at this time.

“Still wanna go check out the mines?” Pat asked, popping back out from where he’d been exploring the craft room. “I looked at the junimo tablet, but I don’t think our buddy Rasmodius is gonna care too much.”

“Probably not,” Brian said, quickly and carefully tucking all his annoying feelings away once again. “You’re just excited to get a sword, aren’t you?”

“Hell yeah, of course I am,” Pat said, slinging an arm around Brian’s shoulders once they were back out in the rain. “I am _so_ ready to go stab some slimes, you don’t even know.”

-

  
_(Thursday, Sunny. The spirits are somewhat annoyed today. Luck will not be on your side.)_

By the fourth morning, Brian wasn’t really feeling up for finding anymore silver linings, or exploring the mines, or whatever the hell else there was to do. Fishing, he guessed: that was about it. He’d woken up to sunshine and the weight of Pat’s arm around his waist, and after that surprise bright and early, he just wasn’t in the mood for any of it today. 

“I’ll go into the mines for a bit,” Pat said after they checked the mail and gave Banana some fresh water. “Just in case we’re—in case we have to stay here for a while. We might as well get all the materials for the house upgrade, right?”

Brian shrugged, and for a second he thought Pat might say something else, but Pat just sighed, heading off in the direction of the mountains. 

It wasn’t that Brian _wanted_ to be a dick, and he wasn’t mad at Pat, not really, it was just… hard. Everything about this was hard, and frustrating, for so many reasons. And he didn’t even want to _think_ about what would happen if they were stuck here for any extended amount of time. 

Farming helped, a little bit. He spent a couple hours tending the parsnips; he walked into town and bought some more seeds, planting them even though he really hoped they’d be gone before the potatoes fully sprouted; he laid on the ground next to Banana, who licked his face twice before settling down on his chest, dozing in the sunshine. 

Pat returned early in the afternoon, dumping a seemingly unending number of rocks out of his backpack and into the chest they’d crafted for extra storage. Then he stood next to Brian, who was still laying on the ground, and put his hands on his hips. “I figured I shouldn’t wear myself out too much,” he said, answering a question Brian hadn’t asked. “You feeling any better?”

“Ehh.” Brian waved his hand back and forth. Banana meowed, hopping off Brian’s chest to twine around Pat’s legs; Pat crouched down to give him some attention before glancing back up at Brian over the rims of his glasses.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked, voice soft, and Brian instantly felt a surge of guilt. He hadn’t been outright _mean_ to Pat that morning, but Pat wasn’t an idiot. Of course he’d picked up on Brian’s shitty mood. Embarrassment settled in his limbs, heat crawling up his face, and he rubbed uncomfortably at the back of his neck, like that would make the flush go away.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t—we’re both stuck here, I’m not mad at you or anything. Sorry I was grumpy earlier,” he said, half mumbling, staring down at the dirt rather than making eye contact. He didn’t—he felt like if he looked Pat in the eye, every single stupid thought in his head would be completely visible on his face, and yeah, Pat was, like, cool and mature and shit sometimes, he wouldn’t be a dick about it, but—anyway, Brian didn’t want to talk about it. About _everything_. Not yet, anyway. “I just—miss everyone, you know? My sister and brother and my mom’s shitty texting. My _cat_ —,” he paused, glancing over at Banana. “No offense, Banana.” Banana didn’t respond; Brian shrugged, tucking his legs up to his chest. “This wasn’t really what I had in mind when I started planning my next vacation.”

Pat sighed, scooting Banana out of the way so he could sit down next to Brian, pressing their shoulders together. “I hear you,” he said, leaning forward a bit so he could force some eye contact. “But we’re gonna get out of this, okay? We’re not gonna be stuck here, I promise.” He smiled, crooked and a little sad, but genuine, and that made Brian smile a bit too. “And hey, at least we’re together, right? That’s not too bad.”

Brian made a noise that he’d describe as a being somewhere between agreement and anxiety. It wasn’t like Pat _knew_ he was part of the reason Brian was slowly losing his mind, and it wasn’t that Brian, you know, _didn’t_ like everything happening. More like the opposite, which was the problem. So Brian just didn’t say anything.

“Well,” Pat said after a couple seconds. “I mean, it could’ve been way worse. You could’ve been stuck here with Simone.”

“Oh _god_ ,” Brian groaned, dragging his hands down his face. “Can you kill plants in this game? Simone would’ve totally killed all the plants, like, immediately. Just by looking at them”

Pat cackled, loud and surprised, and draped an arm around Brian’s shoulders. “See? It could _totally_ be worse.” He paused, tightening his hold on Brian for brief, comforting moment. “We’ll figure it out. Seriously.”

“Yeah,” Brian said, sighing, letting all the tension ease out of his body. “Yeah, okay.”

-

  
_(Friday, Sunny. The spirits feel neutral today. The day is in your hands.)_

“Brian!” Pat shouted, voice carrying through the open cabin door to where Brian was checking the weather for tomorrow, and then, just for fun, today’s fortune. Inscrutable as ever. He really didn’t get the luck system in this game. “Brian, come look!”

“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” Brian called back, and he turned off the TV before following Banana outside to see what all the fuss was about. 

Pat spread his arms in an expansive gesture, surrounded by fully grown parsnips. “Look at our beautiful plant children!”

“Jesus Christ, Pat.” Brian laughed despite himself, hands on his hips. “We didn’t do _that_ much, it’s pretty easy to farm in this game.”

“Let me have this!” Pat said, undaunted, plucking the full grown parsnips out of the ground. They weren’t the most beautiful things Brian had ever seen—he was suddenly _really_ curious what gold star parsnips looked like. Did they sparkle?—but it was kind of cool. Like, not as cool as if they’d managed to grow _actual_ food, in the real world, but still. “Look how cute they are!”

“They’re very cute, yes, good job Patrick,” Brian said indulgently, walking down the steps to have a better look at the vegetables. “Do you think quest money just appears in our pockets, or— _augh_!” Without warning, Pat swooped in, fully lifting Brian off the ground in a hug. “Okay, hug time I guess,” Brian said, voice strangled, just managing to get his arms around Pat’s shoulders. “Don’t drop me this time, there’s not a couch nearby!”

“I’m not gonna drop you,” Pat said, mostly into Brian’s shoulder. He squeezed Brian tightly one more time before lowering him to the ground, pointedly slow. “How cool is this, though! Come on, Brian, it’s pretty cool.” One hand was still at Brian’s waist as he held out one of the parsnips, clearly eager to show off the fruits (well, vegetables, _haha_ ) of his labor. Unfortunately, Brian really didn’t think he could give the parsnips the attention they were due with Pat’s fingers pressed against his spine. Seemed a bit unfair to everyone involved, honestly.

Brian hopped a couple steps away, desperately needing the personal space for his own peace of mind. “It _is_ definitely pretty cool,” Brian managed, clearing his throat. “I’ll go, um, bring one over to the Community Center. If you wanted to harvest the rest?” He took the parsnip Pat was holding out to him and, before Pat could say anything, jogged off in the direction of town. “Great, awesome, see you later!”

It was definitely cowardly to _literally_ run away, but he just—look, this was day five of being around Pat twenty-four hours a day. Maybe he’d managed to not go off the deep end sooner because usually he could _go home_ to his apartment and, like, watch funny cat videos his mom posted on Facebook. Maybe the small boundary of sending goddamn _text messages_ rather than _living together_ had been enough to protect him from this mental breakdown. But now it was like he couldn’t shut off that part of his brain. Sometimes a tactical retreat was the best solution.

When he was out of sight of the farm, Brian looked down at the stupid root vegetable he was carrying and debated, just for a second, chucking it off into the woods. And then he felt immediately guilty about it, because Pat had been _so_ excited, and Brian, like an idiot, ran away. 

“Uuuuuuggghhh,” he groaned, crouching down for a few seconds just to languish in his feelings, before continuing the trek to the Community Center. That’s where he said he was going, after all, and he might as well follow through.

As Mayor Lewis had said, the door was unlocked; inside, the Community Center was dimly lit, mostly by what light snuck in through cracks in the ceiling and between the boards on the windows. Dust motes fluttered through the air, and Brian sneezed.

“I know we didn’t get high with the wizard dude,” Brian said once he’d closed the door behind him, “but you’re all magic forest spirits anyway, so you probably know we’re not supposed to be here. I figured I’d bring some of our crops by just in case.” None of the junimos were visible, and none of them appeared after he finished talking, but that was fine. They only came out when they wanted to, after all. Brian put the parsnip down in front of the junimo’s hut before sitting down against one of the walls, ignoring the dust and dirt instantly attaching to his clothes.

“So like,” he continued once he was seated, because talking to the junimos about his problems seemed less weird than talking to himself. “Here’s the thing. First of all, Pat’s my coworker. Right? And like, I know that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Lots of people date their coworkers, blah blah. But I don’t! Or I didn’t want to. Or—,” he shook his head, “I tried not to want to. You know? It’s stupid. It’s a bad idea.” 

He sighed, scrubbing at his hair. “I wish I could just… turn it off. And maybe I can once we get back, I dunno.” He trailed off, watching a spider drop down a foot or so from the ceiling, beginning the process of spinning her web. Maybe he’d just conveniently forget about all these feelings when they got home. He could make his sister watch Disney movies with karaoke mode turned on and they’d make a fuck ton of popcorn and drink too much wine. And then he could go into work the next day and pretend he hadn’t spent a week sharing a bed with Patrick Gill. 

Maybe. 

Something made a rustling noise, and Brian looked away from the spider just in time to see the green junimo poke out from the hut, do a little dance over the parsnip, and tug it back inside. He smiled, a little crooked, and shook his head. They really were adorable.

“Hope you like it!” he called after the little forest spirit before hauling himself back to his feet. On one hand, he knew he shouldn’t just avoid Pat for the rest of the day; on the other, it was easy enough to hide in the mines fighting slime monsters for a few hours just to avoid talking or thinking about his feelings.

Pat had the TV on, set to a rerun of the cooking show, when Brian finally got back to the cabin. He turned at the sound of the door opening, followed immediately by Banana hopping off his lap to demand attention from Brian. _Maybe he won’t bring it up_ , Brian found himself thinking as he scratching underneath Banana’s chin. _Maybe we can just pretend like everything’s totally super fine and nothing has gotten out of control and I’m totally chill._

“I was a little worried,” Pat finally said, running a hand through his hair. “I guess I didn’t think you’d be gone all day.”

Brian winced a little. “Yeah, sorry about that,” he said, trying to sound as casual as he could. “I was just, you know, already out, so I went up to the mines. Figured I was already nearby, so… It kind of sucks not having our cell phones, huh?”

“Yeah, for sure.” Something sounded off about Pat’s voice, and when Brian looked away from Banana and up at him, something seemed off about his expression too. “Hey, Brian, look—” He cut himself off, and once again pushed a hand through his hair. _Please don’t say anything_ , Brian thought, desperate, he really didn’t want to talk about this right now, or possibly ever, and if he cut Pat off it would be _totally obvious_ and that might be _even worse_ than talking about it. 

“Everything… okay?” Brian asked, hesitant to even ask, but there was something—

After another second, Pat huffed out a sigh and waved his hand as though to brush aside the conversation. “Yeah, you know what? Nevermind. It’s fine,” he said, sitting back down by the TV. “I just hope our buddy Raz has some good news soon.”

Brian nodded, absentmindedly petting Banana while he stared at Pat’s back. “Yeah,” he said, feeling, for some reason, kind of let down. “Me too.”

-

  
_(Saturday, Sunny. The spirits are very displeased today. They will do their best to make your life difficult.)_

They didn’t talk the next morning. Brian _wanted_ to say something—apologize for dodging conversation the day before, maybe, but Pat wasn’t even in the cabin when he woke up. When Brian peeked his head out the door, Pat was out in the field, watering the cauliflower and potatoes, planting some more parsnips. It was hard to tell from this far away, but he looked focused and serious, and Brian couldn’t help but wonder if he was _actually_ upset and just didn’t say anything for some reason. 

“I fucked up, Banana,” Pat said, looking down at the cat as he squirmed past Brian’s legs and out into the sun. Banana meowed at him once before scampering off towards his water bowl, pouncing up at a butterfly. At least Banana was in a good mood. 

Sighing, he checked the weather for tomorrow (more sun, thankfully) before heading out to the fields as well, trying not to think about the feeling of Pat’s hand on his back.

“Need any help?” he asked, careful to make noise as he walked over so Pat didn’t get startled.

Pat looked up at him, then out at the crops, frowning a little in thought. “Nah, it’s fine,” he said, pouring some more water onto a potato sprout. “I don’t mind doing it. I think I might try to grow some stuff when we get home. It’s kind of fun.”

“I didn’t _ask_ if you _minded_ ,” Brian said, making a face. “If you need help, I’ll help. That’s cool, though. You gonna grow veggies or just some flowers or something?”

“Maybe some lettuce? I think that’s the easiest one to start with.” Pat shrugged, and while he was clearly trying to be upbeat, his heart wasn’t quite in it. “And I’m almost done, so.” 

“Oh.” Brian glanced around and, sure enough, almost all the plants looked to be watered, droplets pooling on their leaves. He hadn’t slept in _that_ much, which meant Pat had to have gone outside way early. His stomach twisted into knots, but he swallowed down his feelings and any stupid words he might be tempted to say. “I guess I could go, uh, forage or something. Maybe fish. I haven’t really fished yet? That could be fu _OH_ my God!”

He’d turned around to look in the direction of town, debating whether to make the trek out to the beach or not, and the wizard Rasmodius was just… suddenly standing there. Brian was _positive_ he hadn’t been there a second ago. 

“Hello,” the wizard said as Brian slapped a hand over his heart and tried to remember how to breathe. Even Pat had jumped a step back, just barely missing the crops lined up behind him. “Good news, gentlemen. I’ve made a breakthrough!”

With a flourish, he pulled a small bottle out of his cloak, filled with a dark blue, sparkling liquid. It looked kind of like nail polish. Or sparkly nail polish themed gatorade.

“This potion _should_ send you off to your proper world, and definitely not turn you into blue slimes,” Rasmodius continued, replacing the bottle into a hidden pocket. “But it will only work at sunset tomorrow. Magic is funny that way. Lots of rules.”

“So it… could still turn us into blue slimes?” Pat asked, one eyebrow high on his forehead.

“Only if you drink it too soon, or too late.” Rasmodius snapped his fingers and a purple light began to surround him. “My tower. Tomorrow. Sunset.” He snapped again, and in a flash of that same light, he vanished.

Brian stared, blinking at the place the wizard had been standing, semi-blinded from the weird magic he’d used. 

“Uh,” Pat said, looking just as confused as Brian felt. “That’s good, I guess.” He shook his head as if to clarify what just happened, before shrugging. “As long as we don’t get turned into slimes, sounds like everything’ll be fixed up soon, huh?”

He clapped a hand against Brian’s shoulder before turning back to the plants. _Well_ , Brian thought, sighing. _Not everything._

-

  
_(Sunday, Sunny. The spirits are in good humor today. I think you'll have a little extra luck.)_

On what was hopefully their last day stuck in Stardew Valley, Brian woke up like this: warm sunlight, happy birds greeting the new day, and Pat’s arm draped across his waist like they’ve never slept any other way.

“I hate everything about this,” he muttered, extricating himself as carefully as possible. Pat mumbled something in his sleep and rolled over, seemingly unaware of the whole goddamn situation. It didn’t seem fair that Brian was the only one struggling, but also, he really would rather Pat _not_ be awake for any of this, so. Mixed blessings. They’d be gone soon enough, anyway, and then Brian could pretend like none of this ever happened and hopefully everything could go back to normal.

Banana meowed, demanding attention, but he jumped up on the bed after getting his morning scritches rather than follow Brian outside. For whatever reason, the cat had clearly decided he liked Pat better; _Fair enough_ , Brian thought, taking one last look at the distressingly picturesque sight of a snuggled Pat and Banana before leaving the cabin.

It was strange: Brian hadn’t expected to be upset about it being their last day on the farm, but he was, a little bit. There was something calming about this place. Not to mention that everyone had been so nice and welcoming, and Banana _was_ a super cute cat even if he liked Pat more. He was definitely going to miss Banana. Maybe he should say goodbye to everyone in town—Emily, at least, who’d been so damn nice. But that would probably sound weird, since no one seemed to realize they shouldn’t be here, so instead Brian watered the crops and did his best not to think about anything else.

He was halfway finished when Pat finally came outside, Banana scampering ahead of him down the steps. “You could’ve woken me up.”

“Nah,” Brian said, but held out the watering can for Pat because, well, Pat enjoyed it, and Brian liked when Pat was happy. Ugh. “You did a ton of work yesterday, figured it was my turn.”

Pat smiled but didn’t say anything, just continued watering the remaining crops. “Hey, so, I was thinking we could bring all our junk over to the Community Center before we leave. I don’t think we have enough of anything to finish a bundle but…” He trailed off, gesturing towards Pelican Town. “We might as well, right?”

Something felt warm and fuzzy and gross in Brian’s chest. Everything was awful.

“Yeah, definitely,” he said, rubbing at his cheek like that could get rid of his blush. “Oh, but, hey, we could probably finish the foraging bundle.”

“Oh true! Yeah!” Pat snapped his fingers and pointed at Brian like he’d just said something genius. “I think we’ve got a couple in the storage chest, hold on.” He put the watering can down and jogged over to the chest, hauling it open to rummage around inside. After a few seconds, he pulled out one horseradish and one leek, still in perfect condition. One of the perks of video games, Brian guessed.

“So just some dandelions and daffodils, right?” Brian put his hands on his hips. “Shouldn’t be too hard.”

They loaded everything into their backpacks and started north, taking the path towards the hills to, well, go flower picking. If they circled around and back down towards Pelican Town and the Community Center, Brian figured they were bound to find some, and, sure enough, some dandelions had sprouted along the side of the path leading up to Robin’s house. Pat put them carefully into his backpack on top of the copper ore and rocks and logs, even though video game magic would keep them from actually getting ruined.

Neither of them said much while they walked and searched, comfortable together as usual despite Brian’s current inner struggle over the fact that Pat the Farmer was kind of hot.

Right when Brian was about to give up and make a case for just dropping all their shit inside the building, there the flowers were. At the bottom of the hill, in the fields around the Community Center, two daffodils sat as if waiting for them, yellow and white blooms craning towards the sun. Pat jogged over to pick the daffodil near the playground, twirling it between his fingers as he walked back, while Brian plucked the one under the maple tree near the edge of the plateau.

“What should we do with the extra one?” Brian asked, sniffing at the flower (not a bad fragrance, actually) as they reconvened in front of the building. Pat hummed thoughtfully, then took the flower and tucked it behind his ear, batting his eyelashes.

“How do I look?” he asked, grinning wider when Brian laughed. “Actually, here—”

Before Brian could say anything else, Pat removed the daffodil and put it’s behind _Brian’s_ ear instead, carefully not to get it stuck in Brian’s hair.

“Looks better on you,” Pat said, casually, as if Brian wasn’t slowly turning fluorescent red. “C’mon, let’s go drop all this off, we’ve only got a couple hours before we need to head over to see our buddy Raz.”

The old door creaked open, and Brian followed Pat inside. As usual, the air was stale and dusty, the only sound coming from the old floorboards beneath their feet. Together they laid out all their foraged supplies, arranging everything in neat rows. When Brian glanced over, Pat’s eyebrows were furrowed, focused, his hair falling from behind one ear. He could still feel Pat’s fingers in his hair, on his ear, the daffodil suddenly heavier than it should be; without saying anything, he grabbed the foraged plants and scrambled into the craft room, eager to escape the phantom sensations.

“I know we can’t talk,” Brian said, hoping that the yellow junimo was hovering nearby, invisible. “But Pat and I—we’re not supposed to be here. We’re not _from_ here. So we can’t help you rebuild this place. But…” He trailed off, crouching down beside the shining tablet etched with junimo writing. “We still want to help. I don’t know if this place will, like, exist? After we leave? But if it does.”

He laid out the plants in a neat row on the tablet: horseradish, leek, dandelion, daffodil. For a moment, Brian held his breath, feeling certain nothing was going to happen—and then, there it was. The little yellow junimo. It danced a bit, in a way that Brian assumed was happy, and suddenly the tablet was colored paper. The paper wrapped around the plants, tied itself with a string that also appeared out of nowhere, and then the junimo picked it up and began carrying it back to the main room.

“Pat!” Brian yelled, slowly following after the little forest spirit, not wanting to scare it off before Pat could see. “Pat, it worked!”

The junimo rounded the corner, and Brian followed, and then he could see Pat, sitting among the various items they’d laid out, watching with rapt attention as the junimo trotted over to the little hut in the corner and tucked the package away. It bounced happily in the doorway of the hut for a second, but then Brian took a step further into the room and it vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.

“Holy shit,” Pat said, soft and reverent. He looked up at Brian, a smile slowly growing on his face, and Brian could hear his own heartbeat, could feel it all the way to the tips of his fingers, and it was so stupid, _so_ fucking stupid. He didn’t even want to _think_ about what he was going to do when they were back in New York, back at work, sitting next to each other on the same couch in front of a camera. “You think they’ll take the rest?”

“What? Oh, uh, maybe? I hope so,” Brian managed, physically shaking himself out of his annoying Pat-related spiral.

Pat hummed thoughtfully and turned around to open the door. “Maybe they just don’t want to show up while we’re still—”

“Oh, hey,” Brian interrupted, grabbing the edge of Pat’s sleeve to make him stop and turn back around. Because suddenly, one after another, junimos of various colors popped into existence in a circle around the offering, bouncing up and down in a happy dance. Between blinks, all the items were bundled up into neat and tidy packages, each junimo picking one up and waddling over to their hut. Pat and Brian watched, transfixed, as all the forest spirits put the bundles inside, then turned back to face them and waved their little arms, a clear goodbye.

A little helplessly, Pat and Brian waved back, before stepping out of the Community Center.

“Wow,” Pat said as the door shut behind them.

“Yeah.”

They didn’t say anything else as they walked to the wizard’s tower, shoulders occasionally bumping together. Pat seemed absorbed in thought, a serious expression on his face, and Brian didn’t know what he’d say anyway. _I think this shared delusion made me realize I’m in love with you_? No thanks, Brian would rather die. 

Daffodil petals brushed pointedly against his cheek.

Sunlight was just beginning to fade when they reached the tower. Before they even made it up the steps, the door swung open, and Brian counted it as a win that he didn’t fall backwards on his ass. Rasmodius, dramatic as ever, stepped back and gestured for them to enter.

“You’re just in time,” he said, tipping his cowboy hat in greeting as they stepped past him into the tower. “Hurry up, stand inside the spell circle, yes, right there, perfect!” 

Pat raised an eyebrow, glancing at Brian as Rasmodius shut the door. Brian shrugged, trying to convey _if this goes wrong it was your stupid idea_ with his eyes. Pat makes a face back, which Brian chooses to interpret as _yes Brian I will take full responsibility if you die from the wizard drugs._

“You might feel a bit woozy for a moment,” Rasmodius said, removing the weird sparkling potion from his cloak, as well as two glasses, seemingly from nowhere. Half the potion went into one, half into the other, and he held them out like a well-trained bartender. “I’ll count you down. You need to drink at exactly the right moment.”

“And you’re sure it won’t turn us into slimes,” Pat said, carefully taking one glass.

“Relatively,” Rasmodius said, looking down at his watch. “Get ready now, the sun’s about to set. Drink up in five, four—”

“Wait wait wait, that’s it, that’s all—” Brian tried to say.

“Three, two—”

“Not the time, Brian!” Pat hissed, elbowing him in the side.

“One!”

They drank.

—

`…`  
`…`  
`…`  
`_error_`  
`_stardew_valley.exe has stopped responding_`  
`_process terminated_`  
`_..._`  
`_restarting your pc_`

_—_

Brian woke up the dulcet sound of honking ducks, which he’d set as his cell phone alarm while drunk and never changed back. Outside his window he could hear the sounds of New York City traffic, accompanied by his neighbor who always seemed to forget that everyone could hear her singing when she opened her window.

“Holy shit,” he said, staring up at his bedroom ceiling for the first time in a week. 

Rolling out of bed (deftly avoiding cracking his head on his nightstand), he frantically tried to shut off his alarm while also unlocking his phone and trying to open his text messages. Patience was just not going to happen today.

 _PATRICK GILL WAKE UP_ , he sent to Pat immediately, grateful for autocorrect. 

“Bri?” Laura called from outside his bedroom. “You okay in there? Don’t get a concussion again or I’m calling Mom.”

“I’m fine!” he shouted back at the same time Pat’s text reply came through.

 _YESSSSSSSSSSSSS_ 💃💃💃

Laura opened the door and poked her head inside, eyebrow raised. “Just making sure. Why are you just standing there on your phone?”

“No reason,” Brian said, quickly, tossing his phone onto his bed like a hot potato. “Laura! Lauraaaaa I’m so happy to see you oh my god!” Before she could say anything else, he wrapped her in a big hug, the relief of finally being home settling in. Laura, to her credit, allowed this to happen, patting him gently on the back.

“Okay, we literally watched a movie together last night but it’s good to see you too,” she said, muffled against his shoulder. “You weirdo.”

“Last—actually, nevermind. Don’t worry about it. I’m super weird, that’s fine,” Brian said, choosing not to think too closely about the fact that somehow, no time had passed. 

It couldn’t have all been a dream. The memories were too specific: the feel of a pickaxe chipping away stone, Banana’s fur under his fingers. The weight of Pat’s arm around his waist.

Laura pulled away from the hug, frowning up at him. “You sure you’re okay?” she said, clearly seeing something in his expression. 

“Yeah, just—weird dreams, that’s all. Oh hey!” He looked down at his shirt: still Yu-Gi-Oh. “Guess it wasn’t lost to time and space after all!”

Rolling her eyes, Laura punched him lightly on the shoulder before walking out of his room. “I gotta go, good luck with your weird dreams or whatever.”

“Bye Laura love you!” Brian called after her, which got the laugh he was aiming for. The front door slammed shut, and Brian lunged for his phone, scaring Zuko, who’d apparently hopped up onto his bed when Brian hadn’t been looking. “Shit, Zuko! I missed you too!” He kissed the cat three times right on his head, despite Zuko looking increasingly annoyed that Brian wouldn’t just let him sleep, and then finally checked his phone again.

But Pat hadn’t sent anything else, so it didn’t matter. Brian wondered what Pat had been doing a week ago—the night before— _whatever_. Ugh. This whole stupid thing was confusing. Hopefully they’d have some time to talk about it at lunch or something. Choosing to get ready for work instead of dwelling, he rushed out of his room for coffee, shower, and breakfast, in that order.

His morning routine was enough to distract him all the way, as was his subway ride, stuck between a high schooler (possibly ditching class) and a weird looking businessman (unfortunately baggy suit). In fact, he made it all the way up the elevator and into the Polygon office before he’s suddenly, forcefully reminded of everything.

“ _Jesuschrist_ ,” Brian said when Pat suddenly appeared and he nearly beaned himself by walking right into him. Pat grabbed Brian’s shoulders, keeping him upright.

“Hey Brian?” Pat said, his voice cracking a bit. “Can we talk?”

Brian shifted his weight, picked at the strap of his bag; Pat’s hands felt big and heavy and ideally, he would’ve avoided this confrontation for at _least_ the rest of the work day.

“Do we have to?” he asked, even as Pat started directing him towards the room where they filmed the show. It would still be empty, given they weren’t set to film until later, and relatively private, but also they were scheduled to be in another video before that, and someone was going to come looking for them, and what if they overheard—

Pat shoved him into the room, looked back and forth down the hallway to make sure no one was following them, and then quickly shut the door. He looked serious, which—okay, could be bad, or could be fine? Maybe he just wanted to verify they weren’t both going nuts, which Brian could understand. That was what _he_ had wanted to do the very fucking second he’d woken up in his own bed. 

“You wanna go first? Or I can go—no you go first, you go first, you wanted to talk,” Brian said, unable to keep himself from rambling. He adjusted his glasses just to do something with his hands. He felt like he was about to crawl out of his skin. Like every single stupid feeling was showing on his face. Like—

For a moment, Brian thought Pat was going to grab his shoulders again and maybe shake him a bit, have a good freak out session, you know. Instead, Pat’s hands framed his face, and suddenly Pat was leaning in, and Pat was _kissing him holy shit_. Brian’s thoughts short circuited, his body felt hot all over, their glasses knocked together, Pat’s _hands_ were on his _face_ and Pat was _kissing him_. 

“Uh,” Brian managed, when Pat pulled away after a distressingly short amount of time. His voice came out all weird, and he cleared his throat. “Wuh. Um. Okay. What.”

“Sorry for not warning you, but, like,” Pat said, looking a little embarrassed. His cheeks and the tips of his ears were bright red. “I just, uh, probably would’ve lost the confidence, so—”

“No! I mean, it’s fine! I don’t mind!” Brian said, a little too quickly, reaching up to hold on to Pat’s wrists. “I’m just—confused? I thought you wanted to, uh, talk.” He paused. “About what happened, I mean. For real. That wasn’t supposed to be a joke. This is all coming out wrong I should stop talking.”

Pat rolled his eyes but he was smiling, so it was probably, like, fond eye-rolling. “We can talk about the weird stuck-in-a-video-game thing later, okay, I’ve just been—we shared a fucking bed for a week, Brian,” he said, pulling a face. His thumb brushed across Brian’s cheek. “We had to lie about being _married_ for a whole _week_ and I was _losing my mind_ because I’ve kind of wanted to do that for a while? And it’s probably stupid because you’re my best friend, and my coworker, but, I dunno, I’m just really stupid, I guess.”

“You wanna, uh,” Brian started, clearing his throat before stepping a bit closer. “You wanna be really stupid again?”

It was probably lucky Pat had only just managed to get Brian leaning against the couch when Simone poked her head into the room.

“Oh my _god_ ,” she said, loud enough that anyone nearby definitely heard too. “This is our _place of work_ you absolute _losers_.” 

Pat groaned and dropped his forehead against Brian’s shoulder. Brian stared up at the ceiling, trying to will his face to be less red.

“Hi Simone! Great to see you! Sure would be nice if you could knock!” he said, still refusing to look at her.

“We’re filming in like ten minutes,” she said, in an extremely smug tone of voice that Brian didn’t at all appreciate. “Soooo hurry up. Also, congrats on the sex!”

“We didn’t have—!” Brian managed to shout before the door slammed shut; he could feel Pat’s laughter more than hear it, so he stomped on Pat’s foot. “Shut up. She’s a terrible liar. Everyone’s gonna know in approximately five minutes.”

“Honestly Brian, I don’t really care,” Pat said, standing back up straight, though he did smile apologetically. “I mean, I care about _you_ , but not about them knowing. If I cared about that I wouldn’t have kissed you at work.”

“Oh.” Brian held a little tighter onto Pat’s shirt. “Right. Cool.” 

“So, like,” Pat said, pushing his hair back—hot, Brian could actually admit that was _really hot_ —one hand still on Brian’s waist. “I was thinking we could go on real date, ooor,” he paused, definitely for dramatic effect, “we could go back to my place and practice for the office Smash tournament on Friday and make out a little.”

“Take me now, Patrick Gill,” Brian replied, and honestly? He was only half-joking.

**Author's Note:**

> [All images screencapped by me from Stardew Valley by Chucklefish.](https://i.imgur.com/uherEoq.png) Thanks for reading!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Hitchhiker's Guide to the Valley [PODFIC]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18749464) by [Opalsong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opalsong/pseuds/Opalsong)




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